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We soared above the destruction.
With every motion Nightclaw made, I could see Lyrastra's agony intensifying but there was nothing I could do. We had to get out. Get her to a healer.
My gaze darted across the crumbling expanse, searching for an escape route.
Had Sephone planned this? Had the event been timed?
Or was it simply that once Avriel was gone, Sephone was content to let the rest of us die? Was the Siabra court watching even now from some hidden recess camouflaged from view?
Unlike Draven, I could not simply glance up and make eye contact with my friends. The gallery window was nowhere to be seen. I was utterly alone.
We flew through the air. Time seemed to warp and distort.
“There,” I shouted, pointing ahead as if Nightclaw could see me.
High on the opposite side of the arena, an opening had suddenly appeared, shimmering in the air.
A glimpse of freedom.
Nightclaw veered towards the beckoning passage, wings beating against the roaring winds surging from below that threatened to engulf us.
I clung to Lyrastra, shielding her as best I could from the onslaught of debris whipping through the arena.
As we neared the exit, the sound of collapse faded into the background.
Nightclaw soared through the corridor into the dark and we were out.
CHAPTER 32
We flew out a toweringdoorway.
As Nightclaw landed, his paws softly thudding on the floor, my gaze was seized by the sight that unfolded before me.
This was not the gallery.
Instead, a new, resplendent room stretched out before us.
